


Crowley and the Perfect Picnic: A Comedy of Errors

by die_traumerei



Series: Bike Girls [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: (kinda?), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Have Their Picnic (Good Omens), Comedy, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Dildos, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Fingerfucking, Fluff, Fucking, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, Orgasm, Picnics, Pillow Principality Aziraphale (Good Omens), Roleplay, Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Slapstick, Strap-Ons, Useless Lesbians, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Following some pretty mind-blowing sex, Crowley is determined to give Aziraphale her perfect day out. It's...an attempt!What happens is not actually her fault, is the first thing you should know.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Bike Girls [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997386
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	Crowley and the Perfect Picnic: A Comedy of Errors

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt from slipperyliz on tumblr, who innocently asked for a picnic and some canoodling which sparked...this. I'm so sorry, LOL.
> 
> (content warnings: Mention of Aziraphale's abusive past relationship. There is mention of injury at the end, but it's played for comedy, and is not described. Please let me know if there's anything else I should warn for!)

“What do you want of me?” Aziraphale asked. She was lounging across Crowley's bed dressed in...well, Crowley wasn't even sure of what it _was_ , or why Aziraphale owned it, but her outfit was incredible. A pair of loose trousers in deep blue-green, made of Dupioni silk with a yoked waist and pegged ankles. No top, but her breasts were _mostly_ covered by a long, duster-length...cardigan? Robe? It was made of blues and greens and embroidery and looked like kelp. Her hair was loose and messy, and she wore a crown of shells, and pearl earrings and Crowley remembered that when Aziraphale went, she went _hard_. And that included when role-playing as a sea witch.

She shifted and the robe's edge fell a little further, showing just the inner curve of her breast. Crowley tried to not be disappointed.

“Why would I want something?” she asked, licking her lips. She was kneeling at the edge of the bed, in her usual black. Nothing special; leggings, a short skirt, a plain top. Pointedly dull next to her shining girlfriend.

“People usually want things when they visit sea witches,” Aziraphale said reasonably. “I can give you your heart's desire, all that. For a price.”

“They say the price is to be fucked by you.”

“If that's something we both want, then yes,” Aziraphale said. “I have other prices, though.”

“What if that _is_ my heart's desire?” Crowley asked, and Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.

“What an interesting woman you are.” She started to rub between her legs, just rocking on the palm of her hand for the moment. “Why?”

“Why what?” Crowley asked.

“Why do you want to be fucked by me?”

“Have you _seen_ yourself?” Crowley asked. “Holy shit. Holy shit, you're so beautiful. Like crazy beautiful. And sexy. I want to lick your tits and let you take me hard. I want to make love with you because you're hot as fuck, and so far you're pretty funny and also intimidating and I like that in a lover.”

The sea witch threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, I like you a  _lot_ . Yes, I will happily fuck you. But first...” She sat up and reached out, running her hand down Crowley's chest, cupping her small breast in one hand. “Oh, beauty. Undress for me, please. Down to your skin. And then let me see you.”

Crowley leaned into the touch with a little gasp, but did as she was ordered, slowly undressing. Not quite showing off, not quite a strip-show, but not hurrying it either. When she stood by the bed, arms folded across her belly, she felt...on display. Awkward, but also proud to show her body off to her lover.

“Oh, yum,” Aziraphale said. She'd shed the trousers and fitted the bad dragon dildo into her harness, and lay back on pillows, idly stroking the dildo like it was her cock. She still wore the wrapper, but it spilled open around her now, showing off her hips and bare legs and yes, yes! One breast was revealed, and Crowley's mouth watered.

“You're so gorgeous,” she breathed, and Aziraphale smiled at her.

“What a sweet, beautiful girl you are,” she cooed, and held out her arm. “Come here, let me hold you. Yes, it's very big and hard, isn't it? Don't worry, it'll be in you soon. I like to start with kisses.”

“I love you,” Crowley said helplessly, laying to make room for the thick dildo, but also get into her sea witch's arms.

Aziraphale laughed. “Oh, I love you too, darling! The body on you,” she admired, running her hand down Crowley's side. “Now, I like being a bit fat – more of me to worship and all – but I do have to say you have the loveliest figure.”

“'m all right,” Crowley mumbled, and arched her neck so Aziraphale could kiss her. And what a kiss – soft and sensuous. If this had been their actual first kiss, Crowley would have died right then and there. Aziraphale was always so _soft_ with her, so unutterably gentle, because Crowley liked it best that way. What a girlfriend she was!

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale said firmly, ducking her head to kiss Crowley's collarbone, cupping one of her breasts with the hand that wasn't rubbing Crowley's back, holding her in place. 

Tentatively, Crowley slid her hand under the wrapper, her thumb brushing across Aziraphale's nipple.

She was not disappointed – Aziraphale gasped and arched her head back, moaning when Crowley kissed her throat. “Oh, it's been so long...”

(It had been, in fact, about forty-eight hours since they'd last made love, but Crowley appreciated the poetic addendum.)

“I can't believe that,” she murmured. “As beautiful as you are? Oh!” This because Aziraphale had shifted to lick and suckle at Crowley's breasts, and her hand was between her legs now, fingers just easing between her labia, tentative and sweet.

“Most people don't want to make love,” Aziraphale said, her fingertips dipping a little further, back arching as her breasts were fully exposed to Crowley's mouth, the two of them starting to move together.

“Well I do,” Crowley whispered. “Over and over and over again. You are _exquisite_.” She moaned, and pressed down harder on Aziraphale's hand. “I want your cock, please, please...”

“In time,” Aziraphale promised, and indeed, there was quite a lot of caressing first, the two of them just touching and kissing. Aziraphale made Crowley lick her own wetness off of Aziraphale's fingers, and she was allowed to caress her cock while Aziraphale kissed her over and over.

They were both slick with sweat and moaning when Aziraphale – finally naked, except for the strap-on and the crown – urged Crowley onto hands and knees, preparing to take her from behind. She dripped lube on the dildo, and caressed it, admiring her own ridges and swirls, her sea-witch dick that made Crowley moan with want.

Face-down on the bedcovers, arse in the air and being tenderly fucked by her girlfriend while a spring storm tossed outside wasn't  _exactly_ something Crowley had expected to happen to her, but she sure as fuck wasn't sorry, especially when Aziraphale started to slide into her with a moan. 

“Oh, God, you're so hot,” she whispered. “What a beautiful woman. Spread your legs more for me, baby. What a good girl. It's very big, isn't it? Too big?”

“Never,” Crowley said in a raw voice. She loved being stretched, slow and sweet, loved the stupid monster cock, loved being on display, Aziraphale sliding into her. She was easy, gentle at first, letting Crowley get used to her.

“Harder,” Crowley said at some point, and then she didn't even try to make words, just let her girlfriend fuck her, feeling Aziraphale come with a moan and the two of them landing on the bed, cock still inside of her.

Not missing a beat, Aziraphale lifted one of Crowley's legs up, up, exposing her for the whole fucking world, or just Aziraphale, and went right back to fucking her, angle changed to open up a whole new world of pleasure, and her hand on Crowley's swollen clit, urging her to an orgasm that truly, genuinely, left her seeing stars.

She was vaguely aware of Aziraphale stroking her hair, and moaned a little when she pulled out. And made some kind of noise when Aziraphale was kind enough to close her legs and settle her comfortably. It would do for a thanks for the moment.

“That's my girl,” Aziraphale murmured fondly.

“Yuhhh,” Crowley managed from her cloud of post-orgasm bliss. Had she ever been so thoroughly fucked? Probably not. It didn't matter. She was getting folded into Aziraphale's arms and settled so her head was pillowed on Aziraphale's bare chest, and everything was perfect.

Aziraphale smiled, watching Crowley stir. She hadn't been asleep, exactly, just...very out of it. Adorably so. And now she was smacking her lips and wriggling, stretching a little and relaxing again on Aziraphale, her body a light, warm weight.

“Hullo you, darling,” Aziraphale cooed, and Crowley smiled, opening one eye to peek at her. 

“Hi, angel.” She closed her eye again, and got her arms around Aziraphale's waist for a little squeeze. “Love you. That was amazing.”

“It really was,” Aziraphale agreed. “I loved being your sea witch.”

“I loved being fucked by you,” Crowley said. “Yum. I'm going to have a hitch in my step for days.”

Aziraphale laughed and made a little tch sound, but she couldn't deny being pretty proud at the same time. Crowley would survive. Actually, she'd be thrilled and grin the whole time, Aziraphale was pretty sure.

“Can I do something really lovely for you?” Crowley asked some time later. Considering that she was idly fingering Aziraphale at the time, the question really seemed to be rhetorical. “I mean it,” Crowley added, stroking her finger along Aziraphale's clit while she made a happy noise. “A big treat that will make you happy.”

“Mmm, keep doing that for one,” Aziraphale purred. 

Crowley laughed and did, and leaned over to kiss one of her nipples for good measure, suckling and shifting her hand so she could slide two of her fingers into Aziraphale's vulva, thumb still working her clit. “Delicious,” she murmured, nibbling very, very softly at the other nipple, so it wasn't left out. “But something special-er than this.”

Aziraphale giggled, stretching and easing, loving the sensation of Crowley idly feeling her up. She'd likely not come, but the intimacy and the sweet feeling was just as good. “A picnic,” she said, drawing one of her knees up to give Crowley a little more room to experiment. “I always wanted to go on a picnic with my girlfriend.”

“Then a picnic you will have,” Crowley promised, leaning over and kissing Aziraphale. Her tongue nudged Aziraphale's lips, and of course Aziraphale opened her mouth to let it mimic her fingers between Aziraphale's legs while she groaned with pleasure. Maybe this _was_ round two, actually. Did it matter? It did not.

Crowley checked the fancy wicker basket one more time, pleased at all the little tidbits – some were Aziraphale's favourite foods, others just nice little things to nibble on, and of course a bottle of Cava. The basket was one of those super-fancy types that came with its own flatware and glasses, and everything fit together very prettily with a gingham blanket tucked over it all. It was a little twee, but that was Aziraphale all over, bless her. 

It was a high femme day. Crowley wore a dark blue dress and very red lipstick and very black mascara, feeling her prettiest. She was wearing flat sandals in deference to the bit of walking they'd be doing, but otherwise felt very ready for a picture-perfect day outside, mostly doing nothing but eating and drinking.

All of which went out the window after she heard Aziraphale let herself in, and called to let her know she was in the kitchen. Crowley looked up, and debated cancelling the entire day. 

Her girlfriend was just  _way_ the fuck too pretty. It was ridiculous. Hair in plaits under your actual straw hat, with a pale blue ribbon and fake cherries on the crown. Her dress was of pale lavender linen, sweetly styled to be a little bit vintage and a lot gorgeous, showing off Aziraphale's hips and bosom. (Really showing off her bosom. Crowley was  _so lucky_ .) She smiled beautifully at Crowley, and giggled as she walked a little closer, pulling her into a kiss.

“Oh, blimey, Zira. You look stunning.” Crowley kissed her again for good measure, and touched the necklace she wore – a fine gold chain with a pretty snake pendant on it. Crowley had given it to her, of course, and she kissed Aziraphale again, savouring the warm embrace and the eager way she kissed back. Knowing Aziraphale, she was probably wearing some kind of delicate, lacy underwear, to make unwrapping her later _even more fun_.

“Stop distracting me!” Aziraphale scolded. “I want my picnic!”

“I want to eat you out for hours,” Crowley said. “But fine, we can have your picnic first.”

Aziraphale giggled and touched Crowley's lips. “Where are we going? We might both get our wishes?”

Crowley made a frustrated little sound. “A park. A big one, but still. Bit too public.”

“Hmph. You can make it up later.” Aziraphale winked. “Can I carry anything?”

“Absolutely not. You are my princess today, adored and spoilt and not carrying or worrying or _anything_ -ing anything,” Crowley informed her. “Into the car with you, lass, we've got a little bit of a drive.”

Aziraphale just smiled, and they set out together under blue skies, a gorgeous English summer. The drive was an easy, pretty one, through fields and forest and low rolling hills as they headed into the Chilterns, the ancient landscape around them familiar and sweet. 

It was a very pretty drive, and ended in Crowley pulling into a tiny car park next to a trailhead. They were the only car there, but a helpful map showed that this was only one part of an extensive trail system. Crowley had been right about how public this was – bugger.

They were about to set off when Crowley stopped her with a smile, and reached behind a tree to pull out a bouquet of red roses, tied with a ribbon the same deep blue as her dress. “For you,” she said shyly. Forget an offering to a sea witch; this was an offering to an  _angel_ .

“Oh, Crowley! They're beautiful!” Aziraphale took the bouquet in hand and buried her face in the flowers to breath them in. “Oh, ow! Bugger!” She looked up and bee flew away just as a little welt started to raise on her cheek. “It stung me!”

“Zira...” Crowley frowned and touched her cheek, pulling her hand away when Aziraphale winced. “Oh, honey.”

“Oh, I'll be fine – I'm not allergic,” Aziraphale said with an easy smile. She rubbed her cheek and made a face, and shrugged and smelled the roses again – from a safe distance, this time. “They're absolutely beautiful. You take spoiling me seriously, don't you?”

“You have no idea. Are you sure you're all right?”

“I think I can survive a bee sting, Crowley.” Aziraphale smiled to soften her words, and kissed Crowley's cheek. “I love you. Where to?”

“This way,” Crowley said, and lead them along the dirt path. They quickly left the forest and the trail widened as it went though a meadow buzzing with yet more bees, not even drowned out by birdsong and wind. Crowley attempted to glare at the bees until Aziraphale laughed and made her stop, and the two of them walked the easy path hand-in-hand.

Crowley had scouted the perfect spot on the map, just a mile or so from the car, and was so far very pleased with the little wander to get to it. They walked in comfortable silence, sometimes pointing out an interesting flower or a swooping hawk, but mostly simply enjoying the day and each other as the meadow turned to parkland, green and pretty and soft underfoot. 

They nearly had the place to themselves, Crowley marvelled, with only a few scattered people, mostly with dogs. She led them off-path, just a bit, just to the brow of a hill so they could settle there and watch the world beneath them. A few clouds had swept in during their walk; little worry, though. They rather added to the idyllic scene, Crowley thought.

“How wonderful,” Aziraphale breathed, looking out over the green swards, the patchwork of farms and fields and trees. “Oh, my darling. I'm so glad to be alive in this moment. To know you and love you and I'm even glad there's such a thing as England, and this view.”

Crowley put the basket down and stepped behind Aziraphale, arms coming around her waist and resting her chin on her love's shoulder. “I'm so glad you're alive, and here, and with me,” she said, and kissed Aziraphale's ear. “I'm so glad I can give you this. Love you and treat you like a princess, and make you happy. You deserve it  _all_ . And more. You always did.”

“Oh, you.” Aziraphale turned in her arms and kissed her. “You're doolally, let's get some food into you.”

Crowley laughed, but also laid out the blanket and knelt on it, beginning to set out plates and such. Aziraphale perched neatly next to her, and Crowley snuck a look at her cheek – still with an angry red mark, but she didn't seem much bothered. They could ice it when they got home if it still hurt, but good food and sweeties and wine would doctor a bee sting well enough until then, she reckoned.

Clouds had swept in faster as she set out the food, but the forecast was for clear weather, and they just joked about not getting sunburnt.

Aziraphale had just selected a macaroon from a plate of them and bitten in delicately, when the skies opened up with a mighty boom, and a downpour like they had hardly ever seen.

They  _both_ shrieked a little, and Crowley dove to try and rescue the food while Aziraphale dove to rescue to the wine, and they were both soaked to the skin in minutes.

“Bloody _hell_!” Crowley roared at the valley, while Aziraphale was laughing so hard she had to lie down.

“Oh my _darling_ ,” she managed, and Crowley tried not to think about how Aziraphale's dress became translucent when wet and clung to her breasts and thighs and yep, that was definitely a lacy bra underneath it. Lying on the blanket, soaked to the skin and with her dress clinging to her, she was _beyond_ pornographic.

(Crowley, of course, simply looked like a drowned rat.)

“I don't think this is letting up,” Crowley said miserably as the initial downpour – not unlike someone turning a bucket upside-down over them – only lightened to a hard, cold rain.

“I don't think so,” Aziraphale agreed, pushing a few loose locks of hair out of her face. “Best head back, love. The food'll be just as good in my kitchen.”

Crowley dredged up a smile for her, and they packed up quickly. The roses looked a little drenched, but at least they wouldn't be hurt, Crowley thought sourly. So they'd have one reminder of what the day was supposed to be.

Aziraphale was, if not cheerful on the walk back, at least meeting the situation with equanimity as they hurried along the path, the rain falling heavily. Poor girl, she was going to get cold in that linen nothing – Crowley made a mental note to turn the heat on in the car, lest she return home with an angel-cicle.

They were all right until they reached the meadow, where the path was turning to thick mud, a little treacherous in their summer sandals. They had to pick their way carefully – but not carefully enough, as Aziraphale slipped and went down into the mud, a full-out pratfall.

“Zira!” If she had twisted an ankle, Crowley was going to mow herself over with her own car.

Aziraphale sat up, wiped the mud off of her face, and looked down at her ruined dress. “Bitchcakes,” she said calmly, and threw the handful of mud down.

“At least the rain'll wash some off on the way?” Crowley offered, and they looked at each and and oh, there was nothing to do but burst out laughing – and for Aziraphale to try and give Crowley a big hug, which she dodged (for the literal first and last time in her life), and that set the two of them off running across the meadow, slipping in the mud and getting filthy up to their knees. (Except for Aziraphale, who was simply wholly filthy.) She _was_ a little cleaner when they reached the edge of the forest, nearly to the car, but her dress was probably fit only for rags, and Crowley quietly vowed to buy her a new one to replace it. Working in Anathema's bookshop didn't pay that well, and her lady deserved as many pretty dresses as she liked.

Finally they reached the car, and at least the weather had the grace to remain terrible. If it had cleared up, Crowley would have had a fit, but no – still pouring down.

“Get in the car and I'll put everything in the boot,” Crowley told her. “Bugger it all, I don't have towels or anything.”

Aziraphale hesitated. “I don't...I'm sorry about your upholstery. Maybe if we squeezed out the blanket...”

Crowley stared at her dumbly, and instinct took over. “Angel, fuck my upholstery. It's all right, love I'm just as soaked as you are.”

“But I'm all muddy...”

“Little mud never hurt a car.” Gentle, oh, God, she had to be so gentle, and it was nothing but her pleasure. She just wished she didn't have to be so gentle because Aziraphale had been abused, and still sometimes had...odd expectations as a result. “Zira, I promise. All I want is for you to get comfortable, and out of the rain, lovey.”

Aziraphale ducked her head and smiled. “I'm sorry, you're quite right.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Crowley called, as she stowed their things and Aziraphale settled in the passenger seat. She hurried around to start the car and put the heat on full blast; it was _cold_ out, and it would get worse now that they weren't walking.

“Hey,” she said softly, and reached for Aziraphale's hand. “You all right there?”

“You mean, aside from the obvious?” Aziraphale smiled at the joke, and Crowley almost kissed her. “I'm all right. Thank you. I appreciate you...explaining.”

“Always, angel.” Crowley kissed the back of her hand. “Let's get you home and into a hot shower and something warm.”

“And you,” Aziraphale chided.

The drive back was...well, it was uncomfortable, no other word for it, but they made it to Aziraphale's flat with no further dramatics, and Crowley washed her legs off and towelled herself off and borrowed a dressing gown while basically stripping Aziraphale down herself and shoving her into a hot shower so she could go curl up on Aziraphale's bed and have a proper snit.

So much for a perfect day. So much for the picnic her girlfriend had asked for, had  _deserved_ . So much for idyllic memories and happy times and kissing under the sun. Oh, Crowley was just fine, but her girl, her girl who'd been hurt so bad and deserved everything nice, and had instead gotten a bee sting and a freezing drenching and a completely interrupted picnic and covered in mud and a ruined dress. It wasn't like she was afraid Aziraphale would end things over this – she clearly wouldn't, even Crowley wasn't  _that_ dramatic to believe that – but it wasn't  _fair._ Her lady had more than earned her heart's simple desire.

Crowley was pouting so hard she didn't even notice the water shutting off and Aziraphale coming into the little bedroom until she was held in warm, chubby arms, cuddled against a soft, familiar body.

“Tell angel what's wrong,” Aziraphale murmured, and Crowley hid her face for a moment in Aziraphale's shirt. It was some soft bamboo thing, and she was wearing matching pyjama pants, about the most casual thing Crowley had ever seen her in. They were soft and warm, and she snuggled close.

“I'm sorry,” she said miserably. “I just wanted to give you a nice picnic. I wanted to make you happy.”

“Oh my God, you silly, silly, wonderful woman,” Aziraphale chided. “I'm _so_ happy. I mean, it helps to not be rained on, but Crowley, it's all right.”

“I can do better though!”

“I know!” Aziraphale laughed and hugged her. “And I have no doubt you will, since you got it into your head that I'm in need of spoiling rotten.”

“You are,” Crowley said. “No, I mean it. Look. I know it's...I can't make up for Gabrielle, or anyone else who's been mean to you. And I don't want to – I mean, obviously I want to sock her one, but mostly I just...want to give you treats and be a really, really good girlfriend and love you. I want to show you how you should have always been treated along the way.”

“Oh, honey.” Aziraphale squeezed her tightly. “You do. You are. Crowley, I've got a dozen roses sitting in a vase downstairs!”

“And a bee sting,” Crowley said.

“Which is nearly healed already,” Aziraphale said peacefully. “And you have to admit, we have a really funny story to tell.”

Crowley almost smiled.

“And I had my sweet girlfriend plan a perfect day for me. And she was so nice when I had a moment. And she loves me so much, and helps me take care of myself. Crowley, we can have a _thousand_ picnics, and none of them will be like this one, and I love that.”

Crowley finally gave in with a smile. “D'you promise?”

“I promise. I think it's all very funny and you're the sweetest person I ever met.” Aziraphale winked. “And a little rain definitely didn't hurt the Cava. Shall I fetch it for us?”

“Oh, might as well,” Crowley said, and kissed Aziraphale's cheek. “I love you. I _am_ going to give you the best picnic ever, by the way. I promise. Someday.”

“I'm sure you will,” Aziraphale said, truly believing it as she went to fetch things for a little picnic in bed.

_Some unspecified time later:_

[text on Aziraphale's phone]

** Anathema: ** Oh my God, of course you can take medical leave, for as long as you need! You poor thing!

** Anathema: ** Let me know if you need anything.

** Anathema: ** Only...how did you and Crowley  _ both _ wind up in hospital?

Aziraphale shifted in her wheelchair, getting a little more comfortable. It wasn't brilliant, but nicer than being stuck in a hospital bed, and all the cushions and pads and things helped a lot. So did the drugs, mind.

She smiled and started to text back. Aziraphale reckoned she was going to have this conversation a  _ lot _ over the coming days, best to get good at it.

** Aziraphale ** : Well, it started with a garden, really. And my wily girlfriend wanted to give me the best picnic ever...

**Author's Note:**

> ...it's totally valid for a series to be both broadly realistic and deal with serious issues *and* rely heavily on slapstick physical humor vis a vis useless lesbians and a reminder that this whole AU only exists because of Whumptober, right? Cool cool cool!
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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